Of Wayne Manor
by Orange Burst
Summary: Because Dick has his cherished moments in each room. Fluff... kinda.


This is my first English fic, sorry if there are some grammar problems or any other mistakes. Beta'd by Li Chylee

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**Dining Room**

With fading ivory colored wallpaper and some painting hanging around , dimly illuminated by a chandelier, Wayne manor's dining room was as luxurious yet old and dingy as any other room in that building. But what picked little Dick attention at most (if not only) was the ridiculously long dining table. Bruce, Alfred, and Dick were the only occupants of the old building. A month had passed but Dick had yet to understand what the purpose of dozens chairs which always left empty when they were having dinner was.

If there was any other bizarre thing there, it was one of the unwritten rule that Dick must sit at the end of table, while Bruce sat at the other end. But it was simply ridiculous! Wouldn't it be easier for Alfred to prepare the food in the table if they sit closely?

So one day Dick just waltz across the table, brought his plate and sat right after Bruce's chair who said nothing but crooked his eyebrow.

"Don't you wanna hear what I've done in school today?" he asked cheerfully, oblivious that Bruce only asked him daily for nothing but formality.

Not waiting his guardian to answer, Dick continued, "So, this morning I found something interesting on an old, big tree I passed in my way to school. I thought that might be a bird nest, but Alfred hadn't let me get off from car to check what it really was. And… and you should check what I've made in art class today! Guess what I draw, it's Batman! It's turn out to be totally awesome and…"

"Richard," Bruce cut in, as stoic as usual. "Do you forget what I've told you about talking while eat?"

Dick blinked. "Oh… Something about being a gentleman who eats quietly… right?"

Bruce nodded curtly, and continued eating his steak.

Dick looked dumbfounded for a moment. "But I'm not a gentleman… yet. And I'm not one of those ladies you need to appeal. So you don't have to be a gentleman in front of me. I will not tell Alfred if you make noises while you're eating, I promise."

**Pool**

It was the middle of summer. But nothing, not even the heat could prevent Alfred to do his job perfectly.

"The pool is filled."

"I can see that, Richard."

"I wanna swim! Let's go there, Bruce!" he chirped, tugging at Bruce's shirt playfully. Dick never bothered to ask why Bruce always dressed formally even in his own residence, not to mention in the middle of afternoon.

"Why don't you ask Alfred to accompany you?"

"Well, I'm not really good at swimming. If I'm drown, it would be a shame to make Al's expensive butler uniform wet when he jumps in to save me."

His casual suit is twice as expensive as the butler uniform, Bruce wanted to growl.

**Master Bedroom**

Sobbing quietly, Dick dragged his little feet across the hall to the master bedroom. Facing the big, carved double door, Dick almost regreted his choice. Bruce surely would mock him for his cowardice, just like his father did before. But he couldn't go back to his bedroom. Not when he was still not sure what the creaking sound was. Maybe 'it' was hiding under his bed. Or inside his wardrobe. Or following him all along.

Shivered by his own though, Dick opened the door quickly, completely forgot to knock it as he should as the unwritten rules told him to.

Unfortunately, Bruce was wide awake, made Dick's plan to sneak in quietly into his bed shattered. The man who was reading a thick book on his bed with the night lamp on didn't look very surprised by Dick appearance, but approached the little boy immediately after saw those teary blue eyes.

"What's wrong, Richard? You had a nightmare?" he asked softly, wiping some tears from his cheek.

That's it.

Bruce would mock him all night, tell Alfred, then announce his cowardice to those press who kept asking about his adoption choice tirelessly.

But he couldn't let Bruce tuck him back in his room. Who knows what would 'it' do to him?

"I…" He croaked out, trying to find any solution he could muster. "I want to sleep here. It's not fair that my bed isn't as big and as bouncy as yours."

And Bruce couldn't say no.

**Study Room**

The place where Bruce usually did all of his business work. Not that he couldn't have done it anywhere else, he was just used to do his office stuff there.

An email from his client came, told him he had sent the shipment list agreement by fax an hour ago. Usually Bruce always locked the room, knowing how curious Dick could be. But he didn't expect him to sneak in and ruined his business paper the moment he forgot to lock it.

No, he didn't.

The boy, oblivious to Bruce's presence, was sitting on his chair, humming a Romanian song while drawing something on a certain paper with his crayon.

Maybe Bruce wouldn't be so mad if he hadn't drawn on almost all of documents. Maybe.

.

.

After being silent for a few minutes, Dick asked Bruce who was driving them to school. "Why should you be the one take my rapport instead of Alfred?"

Bruce glanced at the little boy who was fidgeting on his seat, looking nervous as hell. It was not often to see the boy being so passive, maybe he had scolded him too hard about those doodled document after all.

"Why not? I have some spare time and I want to know your progress in school," he replied.

"Well… I'm really sorry about your… paper, so please don't take your revenge by doodling my rapport."

**Batcave**

"That is the batmobile."

Batman just growled, not really paying attention of Robin's obvious statement. His gloved hands continued typing furiously on the…

"That's the bat-computer. And you're sitting on the bat-chair."

"That's enough of your blabbering, Richard. Why don't you try to find something more productive to do?" Batman huffed. Bruce had always been more grumpy under his cowl, Dick noted.

"Why don't you make me a Robinmobile, a Robin-computer, and a Robin-chair? Oh, and a Robin-ice cream maker would be awesome too!"

**Living room**

-Was one of the largest room, and Dick's favorite room. Dick liked to enjoy his hot chocolate in front of the hearth, smiling at the photo of the flying Grayson hung on the wall beside a portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

It was a little sad to think all of the photo there showing those who had deceased, Dick thought. So he decided to draw his family; his living family, as best as he could.

.

.

Staring at the messy drawing of Batman, Robin, and Alfred in the middle tacked between two big photo frame, Bruce smiled and ruffled the young artist who was sleeping soundly on the sofa, tired yet satisfied after produced his masterpiece.

No one, not even Alfred, remembered to remove the drawing. Or maybe they just didn't have heart to do so. But who knows? Maybe there would be someone who was leery enough about a children drawing, and asked why the hell Batman, Robin, and an old man in something like butler uniform was placed between families photo. That would be a ridiculous way of heroes to have their identity revealed.

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Thank you for reading, reviews are apreciated \(OwO)/


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